


we are the sparks that never fade

by thecivilunrest



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Break Up, Future Fic, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecivilunrest/pseuds/thecivilunrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Hinata tells him after seven years is, “Toss to me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are the sparks that never fade

He heard his knee snap before he felt it.

When Kageyama looked back, that’s the part that he remembers most: the snapping sound and the way that everything had seemed to go in slow motion as he fell to the floor. After that was the pain. 

 

Practice came to an abrupt halt when Kageyama had screamed, Hinata told him later. He doesn’t remember screaming but he does remember the way Hinata and Tsukishima had supported him to the infirmary, which had then sent him to the hospital. 

His mother had been waiting there, still in her house slippers, and she’d held his hand while the doctor had done his tests and given him drugs to dull the pain. 

Despite the medication Kageyama still remembered all of this in a haze of pain, but it had been more mental than physical. He wanted to lash out, to pull his hand out of his mother’s grip and be left alone, but he couldn’t speak. 

He had heard the horror stories, of course. There were always signs of injury in every gym: knee and ankle braces, taped fingers, first aid kits left on benches just in case. The worst thing that could happen to an athlete was an injury, no question, unless it was minor and could be walked off right after it happened. 

His was serious, though. He could tell, even before the doctor told him with a flat mouth what exactly was wrong, that this was fatal. There would be no walking this off. 

He, Kageyama Tobio, King of the Court, has toppled from his throne, his crown turned into ashes. Not from an enemy that could be fought, no, it was worse than that. Kageyama’s own body had crumpled beneath him, a civil war that ended with the death of a king. 

 

Kageyama is confined to his bed for a week. The doctors don’t want him to ruin the delicate balance of whatever it is they might have possibly fix and so he’s stuck, not even able to go to school. After the way everything he ever wanted turning to dust in his hands, this is the worst part of being injured.

The team comes to visit him the day before the the tournament begins. They all crowd into his room, barely fitting, Hinata at the front grinning like this isn’t one of the worst days of Kageyama’s life. What good is a captain that won’t play another game of volleyball with his team? He’s brought this up with Hinata every time he brings his homework, but he refuses to let Kageyama resign. 

Everyone is so somber, a reflection of Kageyama’s mood, that it’s almost like they’re at a funeral before Nozaki, their freshman libero, pipes up. “We’ll definitely win Nationals for you, Kageyama-senpai!” 

Hinata puts his hand on Nozaki’s shoulder. “Of course we will,” Hinata says. 

“It will be like we didn’t even need you.” Tsukishima slides in his two cents, and while normally Kageyama would just ignore him the way years of exposure have taught him to, this comment hits a little bit closer to home than he’d like. Kageyama doesn’t let it show that it bothers him, though, instead trying to smile at the team’s enthusiasm. It hurts his face, but no one seems to notice, which is just fine with him.

Hinata stays after everyone else has gone home, sitting at the edge of his bed. Kageyama hopes that he doesn’t have anymore homework to give. 

“We will win,” Hinata promises. 

The Kageyama of two years ago would have asked _“How?”_ , wouldn’t have believed in a promise about a volleyball game that he wasn’t there to see through. It isn’t like that now. 

He believes in his team. He’s watched them grow and knows that they can do great things. Kageyama _knows_ that they can cream the competition, so it isn’t so much trust as it is _want_. Kageyama wants to be on that bus tomorrow morning so badly he can taste it. 

“I believe in you guys,” Kageyama says, and it’s the truth. He tries to say more but finds that the words get stuck in his throat, the way important things always seem to. 

 

The next night he watches the evening news to find out if Karasuno moved onto the next round. He’s sure they have, and if he check his phone he’d know for sure, but he can’t make himself look. The news is better, less personal. 

He’s in the middle of eating his dinner, his mother kneeling beside him, when the sports segment begins. 

“...And Karasuno High School made it through the first round of the tournament, even without their standout setter Kageyama Tobio.” 

“Kageyama-kun was a major asset to Karasuno,” another commenter notes. “Now there are reports that he will never play again due to injury.”

Kageyama doesn’t hear anything after that, the entire world becoming white noise. He doesn’t notice his mother reaching for the remote with a shaking hand, even as the camera flashes onto Hinata’s face. He can’t hear anything, except _never...play...again...._ The words beat in time with his heart.

He’s known this, of course. The doctors told him this. What’s worse is he’s known that since the moment his knee snapped, but it feels different coming out of another person’s mouth, someone that isn’t clinically detached. 

Kageyama pushes his bowl of rice away, not hungry anymore. 

 

Karasuno loses the first round of Nationals.

He’s learned his lesson and doesn’t watch the news after the first time. Instead he waits up that night for Hinata to come to his room and tell him the results himself, the way he has after every day of tournament play. 

When Hinata walks into his room Kageyama instantly _knows_ what happened. One glance at Hinata, and he knows that they’ve lost. He doesn’t have to see the way that the skin around Hinata’s eyes is a bit pink, or the way his hands are fists. 

One glance at Hinata’s too-bright face tells him everything that he needs to know. “You lost,” Kageyama says, his voice flat. 

Hinata deflates instantly, the brightness leaving him. “Yeah,” he says. “We started strong and then...” he trails off. “The other team was better. I can’t explain it better than that.” His voice starts to wobble at the edges. Kageyama scoots over and pulls Hinata down so that they’re laying together, side by side. 

“I wanted to win for you,” Hinata says, voice muffled into his shoulder. Kageyama kisses his temple and wraps his arms around him. 

“I should have been there.” Kageyama’s grip tightens around Hinata, and he only notices when the other boy starts to wiggle in his grasp, uncomfortable. He loosens his arms, even though what he really wants to do is bring Hinata closer to him. 

“I wish you had been,” Hinata whispers, so quietly that Kageyama knows he wasn’t supposed to hear that. He doesn’t respond. 

 

Hinata doesn’t talk about moving to Kyoto for college, but Kageyama knows he’s going to leave soon. They’d had plans to live in the dorms together, as they were going to the same university. Kageyama had made sure that all of the schools that scouted him had also scouted Hinata, because they would always work better together. Not that it matters now that Kageyama is worthless. 

He knows what he needs to do. He’s known for a while now but he’s been putting it off, the same way that he puts off going to the physical therapist’s office when he can get away with it. It doesn’t matter what the doctor has to say--the moment that he heard the word “surgery” he knew it was over. Kageyama would never play competitive volleyball again. 

This is why he has to tell Hinata that it’s over--he can’t be dead weight, can’t be the boyfriend who’s holding him back all the way from their hometown. Hinata would be better off without him. 

 

Kageyama invites Hinata over and grips the volleyball in his hands tighter when Hinata sits down. “Do you want to go outside...?” Hinata trails off, looking at Kageyama’s face. He doesn’t know what his expression is doing right now, and doesn’t bother to control it. He’s not sure he can.

Better to rip the bandage off straight away instead of letting things linger. Hinata needs a clean break. He deserves it. 

“No, here’s fine.” Kageyama pauses and wishes that he didn’t have to do this. “I want to break up.” 

Hinata jumps up, the way that Kageyama knew he would. “What the hell? Why?” He points at Kageyama. “Is it because I’m moving away? Because there’s this thing called the phone, you know, we can use it and-” Hinata’s volume and agitation increase with every word, and his hands are shaking. Kageyama cuts him off before he makes himself sick. 

“I just want to.” He scowls. “Accept that and move on.” 

“No. I won’t.” Hinata scowls back just as hard, pausing. Then a knowing expression dawns over his face. “This isn’t about your knee, is it? Because-”

“Shut the hell up,” Kageyama says, harsher than he’s said it in a long time. “I’m just tired of you coming around all the time.”

“No, you aren’t. You can’t lie that to me that easily, bastard.” 

Kageyama has had plenty of time over the years to see Hinata’s stubborn expression, and he knows that the one that’s on his face is there now. He doesn’t give up easily; it’s one of the things that Kageyama has always respected about him. 

He just didn’t realize how troublesome it would be to have that stubbornness directed towards him. 

He steels himself before saying, “Maybe it is because of my knee. But it’s also because I can’t stand to look at your stupid face and know that _you_ should be the one sitting here injured instead of me. I’ve always been better than you.”

“Kageyama...” Hinata trails off, his eyes wide. His anger slowly drains out of him, like Kageyama’s punctured the thing that’s been holding all of his righteous indignation. Good. 

Kageyama doesn’t let himself stop. He keeps going, trying to make the wavering expression on Hinata’s face turn completely against him. 

“I’m the only reason you’re even getting to play volleyball in college, you know? I had to tell all the scouts that I’d only go if you went too, and now you’re the only one who’s going. I wouldn’t be surprised if they take your scholarship away too, without me there to help you improve. Don’t let yourself slack off or else you’ll be gone from the team too, since it’s not like you’ll be there based on talent.” Kageyama sneers, his shoulders heaving under all the emotion of his words. 

He doesn’t believe anything that he’s saying, but Hinata is a big enough dumbass that this is sure to get to him. Kageyama knows that he’s sensitive about this even now, three years later. This is one of the downfalls of their relationship. They know each other too well. 

Hinata goes very still, his face blank. “Fuck you,” he tells Kageyama, eyes burning. Kageyama wishes that he would yell and punch him, instead of this controlled anger. “Just because you ruined your own chance doesn’t mean that you get to try and screw up mine as well. You want to break up? Fine. Let’s break up.”

“Good,” Kageyama grinds out, because even now he doesn’t want to let Hinata get the last word. 

Hinata walks out and doesn’t look back. Kageyama watches him go and wishes, more than anything, that he could ask him to stay. 

 

Hinata leaves for Kyoto on the train that they had bought the same ticket for. Kageyama stays at home and goes to the local university, which had been the only one that had accepted him with his abysmal grades. He’d done decently enough on the entrance exam, though, which had surprised everyone that knew him. 

Hinata plays volleyball. Kageyama gets the surgery that he needs to get his knee back in its best condition. His knee will never be the same, the doctors tell him, but he’ll be mostly back to normal. 

Kageyama thinks that he passed normal, or at least his version of it, a long time ago.

He doesn’t know what to do with a volleyball and Hinata shaped hole torn from his sides. He feels like there’s nothing left, and walks around in a daze, going through the motions. While he’s recovering, there’s not much that he can do but that. 

 

He walks past the public courts on his way home from the train station. The route is, technically, longer and makes his knee ache more than it should, but he doesn’t mind. Some days there are people playing on the courts. Watching them makes his chest burn but otherwise he wouldn’t see volleyball at all. 

One day a volleyball rolls to his feet. Kageyama just stares at it, as though he’s not sure what to do. 

THat’s when he notices that Old Man Ukai is there with students, sitting on a lawn chair where the referee would usually be. “What do you think you’re doing?” he yells. “Throw the ball back over here.” 

Kageyama picks the ball up and suddenly doesn’t feel like giving up anymore. 

 

“You can’t play with us,” is the first thing that Old Man Ukai tells him. “I can tell by the way that you’re walking that you’re still recovering from an injury. Heard about that on the news last year. Terrible when it happens to someone in the prime of their life, but it happened. If I let you play now you’ll ruin whatever they tried to fix.” 

Kageyama grinds his teeth in an attempt not to snap back with something sharp. That wouldn’t help his case at all. 

One of Coach Ukai’s students whispers, “Not that he listens to anything _his_ doctors tell him.”

He glares at them before turning back to Kageyama. “You can’t play but you can help coach these kids. Either that or you can keep walking by here every day like some creepy pervert.” 

Kageyama balks at the description, but doesn’t deny it. “Fine,” he grinds out. “I’ll do it.” 

“We’re out here by four every day. Make sure you’re here,” Coach Ukai says before stepping on the court. Kageyama follows him there. 

 

Breathing becomes easier with volleyball being a constant presence in his life again. He didn’t realize how truly suffocated he was until one day he finds himself feeling light walking home from helping the neighborhood kids practice. They can’t play in real school games, not yet anyway, but they all love volleyball and that’s more than enough for Kageyama. 

He’s not the best coach in the world. “You’ve got to...calm down. With the intensity. Your face scares children sometimes,” Old Man Ukai tells him bluntly one day. 

This makes him think of Hinata, who told him the same thing, once. Even that thought doesn’t hurt so much, not standing on a court with a ball in his hand. 

Of course, not every reminder is as easy to swallow. One night while Kageyama is doing homework his mother comes in, groceries in her hand. He gets up to help her carry them to the kitchen. 

“Oh,” she says suddenly while they’re putting up rice, “I saw Hinata-kun’s mother at the store today. Apparently he’s doing really well. He’s a starter on the volleyball team, can you imagine that?”

“Yeah.” Kageyama feels a pang go through him and almost stumbles from the intensity of it. He’d thought that things had gotten better, not worse. And yet it hurts just as much as the day they had broken up. “I knew he’d do well.” _Even without me_ he wants to say, but he stops himself. There’s no use thinking like that, after all. 

 

Kageyama decides that he wants to coach kids for the rest of his life after a year of helping Old Man Ukai at the outdoor courts. He hadn’t had a plan before that, just floating around campus uselessly with no direction. 

Now he knows that he has to be near volleyball, and since he can’t play it, this is the next best thing. Besides, he’s better with kids now. Less scary, or so the neighborhood kids inform him. He’s not sure if he should be offended or not. 

“Your students will just have to get used to you,” they tell him. “You’ve just gotta let them like you.” Kageyama tells them that he’ll keep that in mind.

“You’ll be a good coach,” Coach Ukai says when Kageyama asks him what he thought about his decision one day, after he’s officially declared his major. “You’ve just got to remember that they’re kids, and that not everyone is perfect. They are all going to make mistakes, the way that kids do. At least you’ve gotten better at keeping your insults in check.” 

“Why did you let help you that first day?” Kageyama dares to ask another question.

Coach Ukai just looks at him. “I saw your potential, and your love for volleyball, the one time I helped coach you. And I could tell that you were going to do something drastic if I didn’t help you soon. Face it kiddo, you were pathetic.” 

“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees. “But I’m better now.” 

“And you did it all on your own. Remember that next time, huh?” 

 

Kageyama doesn’t mean to stay updated with Hinata, it just happens slowly, over time. He finds out what Hinata ends up majoring in (business, of all things), how his college volleyball team is doing (undefeated, for the most part), and random things too. 

Their mothers become closer now than they ever were when Kageyama and Hinata were dating, and he finds this ironic. This is why, when Hinata makes the national team, Kageyama is one of the first people to hear about it. 

His mother lets the news slip when they’re peeling carrots for dinner. “Oh, please don’t tell anyone! Harumi wasn’t even supposed to let me know, but she was so excited. Could you imagine, someone we know being on the Japanese national team for volleyball?” 

All at once his mother seems to realize what she’s said. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I know you would’ve had a chance too...” she trails off, but Kageyama waves her words away. 

“I’m not worried about that anymore. It was a long time ago.” There’s a twinge in his chest when he says that, but it’s faded. He really has moved on, focused on something else instead. The knowledge makes him feel better, not worse. 

He hasn’t seen Hinata in person since they broke up, and it’s been years since they’ve played together, since they were each one half of a whole, but Kageyama is so proud of Hinata. This is everything he--they--had ever wanted. They’d pledged to be on top of the world together, after all.

He’s glad that one of them, at least, gets to make one of their dreams a reality. 

 

Coach Ukai helps him get a job at Karasuno high after college graduation. It feels strange, taking Takeda-sensei’s position from him, but he seems more than happy to let Kageyama have his coaching position. “You’ll be better than me,” he swears, bowing.

Kageyama is actually good at his job. Coaching high schoolers is easier than coaching children. They are less likely to cry at his face, after all, and take criticism better. He thinks that he can do this for a long, long time. 

His team is just finished with their first Interhigh Tournament--they got third overall which is good, but not enough--when the Summer Olympics begin, and that’s all anyone can talk about. His students want to watch the volleyball game in the clubroom, and Kageyama allows it, pulling up a chair when it’s time. 

Kageyama listens to his students ooh and ahh over the game as he watches with a critical eye. Not many people are hopeful about the Japanese team’s chances in this Olympics, but then, they’ve never had a team with Hinata on it before. 

 

In the end the Japan gets the gold medal in volleyball, by the skin of their teeth. The game had been what Takeda-sensei would call a “nail biter” and Kageyama’s heart had sunk when they’d had to go to five games instead of an easy win in two. 

But the gold was still Japan’s. After, they interviewed members of the team, Hinata among them. 

“I’m so happy,” he told the cameras, tears mingling with the sweat on his face. “This is what I wanted, more than anything. But I couldn’t have done it without Tsukuda-kun.” He nods to the setter and they exchange a look, before Hinata turns back to the camera. 

It’s been years since Kageyama’s seen that look or the gleam in Hinata’s, but he still remembers it. It’s a look that says that Hinata trusts this person unconditionally, without a doubt. His chest burns, thinking about all the things that look could mean.

Kageyama has been on a date or two over the years, but neither of them have gone very far. He never really had an interest in people other than Hinata, and that was fine with him. For some people there was only one person for them out there, and Kageyama was lucky enough to meet his when he was in high school. 

He was also lucky enough to fuck things up with his own two hands, but still. His emotions had never wavered. He’d never even thought of Hinata finding someone else. And now it’s completely possible that he has.

Kageyama watches the rest of the interview, but doesn’t hear anything that Hinata is saying. Instead he thinks, maybe he really should just let him go. 

 

Kageyama is at the gym, making sure all of the equipment is put up correctly when he hears someone enter. 

“I told you, Ueno, you didn’t have to stay...” he starts, thinking that it’s the captain of the team coming back to see if there’s anything else he can do, when he turns around and sees Hinata and not one of his students.

The first thing Hinata tells him after seven years is, “Toss to me.” 

Kageyama can’t bring himself to be surprised, or unhappy. 

“I-” he starts, not sure where he’s going to go with this, when Hinata cuts him off. 

“Toss to me,” he repeats, more insistent. 

“Alright already, calm down idiot,” Kageyama says, falling too easily back into how they were. “Let me get a ball.”

He goes into the equipment room and grabs a volleyball, putting it right to his face so that he can smell the leather and calm down. He takes one deep breath, two, three, before turning back around and heading out the door. 

Hinata is waiting at the ten foot line, jumping from one foot to the other, when he looks up and sees Kageyama with a ball. “Took you long enough. You’ve gotten slow.” 

“Shut up. Who knows if you can even hit this now.” 

Kageyama throws the ball up to himself, just like he would his team’s setter, an imitation of a perfect receive. Then he tosses the ball like he would during a quick strike, back in high school. 

Years have passed since he’s last done this. He’s never been able to find anyone else that could do this with him, not on any neighborhood team that he’s ever played. It’s always just been Hinata. 

As if no time has passed at all Hinata hits his toss, his eyes closed, like he still trusts Kageyama the way he did when they were freshmen. 

“At least you can still do what I tell you to,” Kageyama says.

“You didn’t even tell me to do anything!” Hinata argues. He glances at his hand, slightly red from the sharp contact of his hand on the ball. Kageyama thinks, briefly, how nice it is to see that some things never change. 

They stare at each other for a moment, before Kageyama starts what should have been the first conversation that they had. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

Hinata takes a deep breath. “I’m here to stay,” he says finally. “I’m going to stop running away.” He looks Kageyama straight in the face as he says this. 

“And volleyball...?” 

“I’ve already been on top of the world. And it was great, the greatest thing I’ve ever felt, but it wasn’t like I imagined, because I was alone.” Hinata takes a deep breath. “I want to hit your tosses again. Yours, not anyone else’s.” 

Kageyama’s never been good with emotions, but he’s matured some, and so he can see the questions in Hinata’s eyes. They’re all things that he wants to say yes to, but he can’t, at least not right now. They have too many things to work out first.

“Okay,” he breathes. “But you’re going to have to try the quick again. I’m not sure that earlier wasn’t a fluke.”

Hinata smiles. “You’re on,” he says. “I’ll prove you wrong.”


End file.
